Literature Commander
by EnderBlue2
Summary: (Yes, another villager story. Hang on.) Professor Pruve is an ordinary writer, until a player comes to his village to teach him how to code and get his face out of books. She helps him invent something amazing to take him to a place he's only read of in books, something better than a superflat biome. He learns players aren't actually jerks. Now that's something to write about!
1. Prologue

(Professor Pruve's POV)

Hello, my name is Professor Pruve. Nice to meet you. I live in a stupid, boring, uneventful village in a stupid, boring, uneventful superflat biome.

I'm a writer. I earn about 20 emeralds a week for my fantastic stories. How do I write such fantastic stories in such an unfantastic setting, you may be thinking? Well, I don't know either. I try to suck out as much coolness from my imagination as I can from my stupid sponge of a brain. Okay, now you're probably bored already because I suck at word choice. I keep using words like "stupid" and "fantastic." Well I'm used to criticism from teenage brats like you.

Why, teenage and preteen and seven-year-old players kill my kind for fun. I don't know why. What did villagers ever do to humans? But in a way, I can't blame you. We are ugly. We trade stupid emeralds when all you want are diamonds. We can't help it! It's in our code! I've tried writing a book about this matter, but it was too boring. I don't get politics and stuff like that (whether why players shouldn't kill villagers is politics or not).

I write humor and adventure. I've tried romance, but it gets so gushy I get more bored than grossed out. See, I am a writer. But there is no such thing as a writer in the codes, so I'm a librarian. But the library is a nice, quiet place to write. Personally, I prefer it because you can make "her" sounds all you want without getting kicked in the head!

Back then, I was always writing. But now I only write part-time! I have another profession which you wouldn't even guess. One villagers shouldn't be able to do. What is it? Here's a hint:_. Haha. You fell for that. You thought I was going to tell you! Of course not! Not until you VOW to be nice to villagers for the rest of your Minecraft days. If you don't vow and read on anyway, I will kick you in the head the next time I see you. It could be difficult, but if you are a famous Youtuber, it will be easy to track you down. That is, I don't know if Youtubers even use this website. But don't underestimate me! Just because I'm an author with a strange sense of humor that writes without moving his hands, that doesn't mean I can't kick robe! So if you refuse to vow, THINK OF ME THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE A VILLAGER.


	2. Chapter 1

It takes years of training to learn how to open doors without using hands. I mastered that frustrating trial eons ago, so how come it wasn't working now?

I woke up early because I ran out of paper, so I was going to trade one of my books with the priest for a stack of 64. But, surprise, I'm not getting paper anytime soon. I banged my heavy body against that stupid wooden thing that seemed to mock me. I growled with frustration and tried the door for what seemed like hours, until the sun was high in the sky, and my fellow townspeople were out.

A young boy passed my building. He jumped back, frightened when he saw me. A crazy madman that can't get out of his own house. Kind of like a zombie villager. Zombies come in your house, make you a zombie, then both you and the zombie can't get out because you're zombies, so you bang on the door again. When the boy realized my skin wasn't green, he stepped closer to inspect me. But his eyes drifted past me, staring at something behind me. I looked back to see what he was staring at and the door whipped open in my face.

"Watch it, kid!" I shrieked angrily. But my stupid nose covered 2/3 of my mouth, so it came out as a muffled "her!" After I got over the fact I had rotten speech, I realized the boy left the door open, so I dashed outside. I was probably hallucinating, but I could've sworn his robe turned purple as he browsed my bookshelves when I left the library.

I wasn't even 15 blocks down the gravel path when I heard screams. I ran as fast as I could to find the source of the noise, and tripped over my robe. With my head down, I heard more screams, crunching gravel, and something sizzling. When I lifted my face up, I saw that the church house was lit up like a giant torch. Villagers surrounded the burning building, all talking at once. Two butchers carried out a man in a white robe. He was unconscious, but fire still ate up his skin. I realized he was the priest I intended to trade with, now close to death. I ran to his side, speechless. As if he read my mind, one of the butchers said,

"There's nothing you can do, Pruve. You'll have to make your own paper from now on." Um, yeah. Three things wrong with his logic.

1. Um, hello? This is SUPERFLAT. I CAN'T make my own paper! It's not like, 'Oh! Look! A sugarcane in the middle of NOWHERE.' Welcome to the real world, giganto-nose!

2. What do you think, I have no heart? I'm sad he's dying because I WON'T GET PAPER. No, really. You THINK I would actually do that.

3. I am PROFESSOR Pruve. Not Pruve.

Before I could shout a sassy word to that know-it-all butcher, a random dude ran up and splashed a bucket of water on the priest. I realized that's what I was hearing, gravel crunching. This guy was running to get water from the well to save him.

"How did it happen?" He asked breathlessly.

The priest managed to mutter three words:

"Purple robed- boy."


End file.
